Descends
by frays
Summary: "And just like that, he was falling again." / Set after Clockwork Angel. / For the Coppertone Wars "twelve days of Christmas" challenge, level one.


**Summary: "**And just like that, he was falling again."

**Set after Clockwork Angel.**

**I do not own The Infernal Devices or any other existing novels mentioned in this fiction.**

ஜஜ

Will could only watch her from afar.

He was always afraid to come too close to her, scared that when he would come in contact with her he would fall for her in a way he would not be able to recover from, in a way that would sweep him off his feet in both his way of life and his place of comfort. He knew that letting himself touch her again would cause the steel walls he had built around himself and the beautiful grey eyes would cause him to crumple along with the fragile walls, thin as ice and thinning whenever his eyes met with hers.

She caused Will to fall harder and harder whenever their eyes met, and caused his heart to shatter more and more whenever she looked away, a glimmer of hurt prominent in the eyes he so loved.

Magnus only made it harder—somehow, the warlocks hundreds of years of wisdom did nothing to help sway the teenage boys troubles over Tessa.

"Try and make her love you—by the time she does, we'll have found a cure." _And in the mean time, the woman I love dies because there's millions of blue demons to go through._

He wasn't looking the most optimistic way, but optimism was a bit hard when the girl he fell further and further in love with each day looked like she was pained to look at him, and could only set eyes upon his parabatai.

He felt the rune on his chest; it felt cold.

He was jealous of his best friend, but he loved Jem still, and knew he wouldn't be able to live without him—the pale boy was all he could have; Jem was the only person who could truly love him without being hurt for there wasn't much life of Jem's to take away.

Will could still hardly bear the idea of having Jem forever parted from him, and he wouldn't be able to handle a life where the rune was simply a scar on his chest where the mark of a bond closer than blood laid.

He knew the scar marked the reason he could never be with Tessa—even if Magnus summoned the very demon who had placed the curse on him, he would never be able to love Tessa for Jem had already placed his claim of love on the beautiful girl, the girl more like him than anyone he had ever, or would ever know.

It would be enough for him to simply sit by her and talk about their favorite books, but she would scarcely make eye contact with him—she looked away whenever his pure blue eyes met her grey eyes as though she were both embarrassed and upset whenever she looked upon him.

_You told her she was nothing more than a prostitute to you—what did you think she would say to that?_

It was only to protect her from falling in love with him—life without Tessa's touch was something he could bear; life without Tessa was something he could not.

He didn't know if he had the ability to make the beautiful girl fall for him, but with the price as her death? He didn't _want_ to know, and he didn't want to know if he would be able to handle a life without Tessa _or _Jem.

There wasn't a life where he could have them both.

His blue eyes flickered over the books in the library, turning absently through the copy of _A Tale of Two Cities._

The door of the institutes library opened, and he smelled lavender.

"Tessa." He greeted softly, his eyes moving to rest on her.

"Will." Her voice was as sweet as he remembered it to be—he had not heard the voice aimed to him in the longest time, and nearly forgot how fragile the gentle tone she used with him made him feel, nearly forgot why exactly he fell so far in love with her in so little time.

And just like that, he was falling again.

"Are you all right?"

Her voice displayed concern for her silence, a concern not even Charlotte or Henry had felt so immediately for him. They were used to being brushed away by a hostile Will; they were used to treating him as though he wasn't present.

They were used to what they didn't know was a struggle to push them away from ever loving him; he loved them.

"I'm fine. Why wouldn't I be?" His voice held as much emotion as a stone would, keeping her gaze steadily until she looked away shyly, tucking a lock of curly dark brown hair behind her ear. She always drew her eyes away from his gaze when the blue and grey met, the reasons something unknown to him.

She wasn't scared of him, he knew, but she was scared always to look at the attractive black haired, blue-eyed boy.

"You haven't seemed fine for a while."

"Tessa, you're a smart girl. I think you could find one or two reasons why I haven't been okay." _Because my best friend loves you, and you hate me._

"No, I can't. I can't see through you, Will."

"Then change into me. Every problem can be healed by demonic magic, can't it?"

It hurt to be nasty to Tessa—it felt like something was twisting and emptying inside of him to see the pained look on her face whenever he would say something unkind to her. It hurt him nearly physically to see her look away from him in horror or disgust that someone could be such an awful person.

She'd never be able to know he hurt her so badly to keep her alive, keeping her life something slowly killing him as he saw the woman he loved hurt by him.

_Why the hell can't Bane simply find a potion for indifference?_

He could never hate Tessa—it didn't matter how hard he tried to hate her; it was impossible. He felt something close to a craving for the beautiful girl, and he was pained to hurt her—and jealous whenever he saw someone else touch her, _especially _his best friend.

Even in Jem's death, he could not have Tessa—he loved Jem too much, and he loved Tessa too much to let her love him.

Her love would kill her the way it had killed his sister, and he wasn't sure if he'd be able to live without Tessa—he had come to terms with Jem's fate, but he wouldn't be able to handle his sister or Tessa being killed by the curse.

He had run away from home to escape Cecily; he didn't know if he would be able to do the same with Tessa.

Escaping Tessa would be too hard—living without her would be impossible. He was a masochist, but he believed it better to live with Tessa hating him rather than to live without her all together.

"I don't want to do that."

"Why not?"

"I'm not interested in invading your privacy, and I'm sure if I took two steps onto the streets in your body I'd be hit."

"Then you'd only get the impact for a moment, and then you could change back into yourself."

Tessa laughed lightly at this, something surprising to the Herondale boy. He hadn't seen her smile in the longest time—when he was near, she was quiet, and she left as quickly as she possibly could.

She picked up a copy of _Les Miserables_, and he chuckled softly.

"Do you fancy Marius Pontmercy, Tessa?" He smiled slightly, the description of Marius and his blue eyes similar to the blue ones of Will's. Tessa sat beside him on the couch, smoothing over her dress as she sat and crossed her legs, letting her grey eyes, looking bluer than grey fall on the book she was holding in her lap.

"I prefer him with Eponine than Cosette—she died for him, and Cosette only sat and looked pretty."

"I feel she was, after Jean Valjean, the most dynamic character."

"It doesn't mean she wasn't weak."

"So then I'll assume you favored Javert?"

"I did, actually. He changed in the end, for the better."

"He killed himself."

"Before that, though, he let Jean Valjean go."

"That's why he died." He argued. "Tessa, every character died when their dreams died."

"How so?"

"Fantine. She dream of love, and she dreamed that her life was one that would make her willing to wake up in the morning; she died when she realized her dream would never come true. Eponine dreamed of Marius loving her; she realized he would always love Cosette, and took a bullet for him. Javert dreamed of catching Jean Valjean and putting him away; he realized Jean Valjean was a good person, and he couldn't live and let Jean Valjean go, so he drowned himself."

"Fine." Tessa sounded annoyed to admit Will's point was correct, and he laughed softly. She looked downwards, her hair falling to her face, causing the shadowhunter to impulsively lean forwards and tuck the lock of fallen hair behind her ear.

The grey of her eyes met with the blue of his, his hand brushing against her cheek, soft as porcelain.

And suddenly, their lips were together, and Will's tilted world felt righted.

His strong arms went about her lithe waist, pulling her close to him so that she was beside him and her arms were tangling in his black hair.

The kiss was sweet, light, and gentle. Their lips together were slow and soft, hesitant and gentle. It was perfect; it was beautiful, as delicate as she. He held her as though she were fragile, delicate as glass and easily able to shatter if he would hold her too tightly or kiss her to roughly.

The sweet silence wasn't enough for either of them.

Will pressed Tessa backwards and laid slowly on top of her on the small couch, letting the muscled arms that were about her lithe waist travel down to her hips, finding their way to her skirts and pulling them up slightly. She responded by desperately tugging away his jacket, breaking some of the buttons with the small strength she had acquired in her training to be a hunter, tearing the coat away and letting her hands run over his carefully crafted muscles, then unbuttoning the thin white shirt he had been wearing underneath his coat.

They were both intoxicated by each other; they were addicted to the taste of each others lips as one would be reliant on the sun, feeling both like they were out of control of their own lustful bodies.

They needed each other—he needed the touch of fire and the smell of lavender that he had grown slowly addicted to in a way he couldn't understand.

His fingers went nimbly to unlace the bodice of her dress, agile from years of learning how to grip onto a dagger or sword, set a trap, punch someone, or shoot an arrow.

He had learned all his life how to control himself or keep himself calm, the runes on his arms only set to prove the fact. He could smell the ink and metal of his weapons and runes mingle with the smell of lavender from Tessa, intermingling with the desire clear in the air, clouding over their minds and making the both of them feet insane with both lust and passion.

He slid the dress past her shoulders, letting his lips go from hers to her throat, gently kissing around her smooth skin to find the sensitive place that would make her gasp, going downwards to the tops of her shoulders and the cleavage that showed through the dress, a dress he was still lost on how he would fully unlace—he had found the laces in the front of the dress to loosen it, but he didn't have a clue what else there was to the dress, his lips going back up to hers as he finally discovered a row of buttons in the back of the dress, undoing them with nimble fingers.

Slowly their clothes fell away, and they came together.

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Will woke with the beautiful girl lying atop him, her skin so incredibly soft against his body, their skin in contact with every inch of their bodies, Tessa still asleep.

She woke with the gentle movement of his trying to brush her hair away, Tessa leaning upwards and kissing him softly, Will closing his eyes.

"I love you," He whispered, his eyes still shut.

"I love you." Tessa echoed.

When he opened his eyes, she was still there.

**Dedication | Coppertone Wars "twelve days of Christmas challenge" level one: **write one fic about your OTP.

**Authors Note | I'm one of the rare people who only ships Tessa with Will—I know I'm weird, but along with Stydia, Keenia, Klaroline, Clace, and Malec, they're my OTP.**

**Question Of The Day:**

**What are your top OTP's, and from what fandom?**

**M**y **r**e**v**i**e**w** b**o**x **i**s **h**u**n**g**r**y**—**f**e**e**d **i**t**!**!**!**


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